I promise I have a point so bear with me. Remember the oodles and oodles of paperwork I alluded to? That's where my second birthday comes in. There's the day I was born (my actual birthday) and then the day that all the paperwork was official (my adoption birthday). Today is my adoption birthday. I don't advertise or make it a big deal to all my friends because that's not the point. The point is to celebrate God giving me to my parents to create a family that I couldn't imagine living without. It's a day that reminds me of how truly blessed I am. And for the first time in 22 years, I wasn't home to be with my family. I don't say that out of self-pity or to get an "awwww" but rather to make the point that not being able to be with my family made me realize how easily I take spending time with them for granted...how easily I take being alive for granted. I woke up to what felt like an ordinary day and was already kind of stressed because I have two tests later this week that I haven't paid much attention to yet (surprise surprise). I sat through class, irritated about how much work I had to do before I could start studying and then I get a phone call that I had a delivery at my apartment. I rushed home to find this...
...and then I broke down. I had been selfishly worrying about my own problems all day when my mom had gone out of her way to have this delicious fruit basket sent to me. I prayed that God free me of my own selfish grasp and so I read the poem my mom gave to me on my 21st birthday:
Once there were two women -
Who never knew each other
One you do not remember;
The other you call Mother
The first gave you life,
And the second taught you to live in it.
The first gave you a need for love,
And the second was there to give it.
One gave you a nationality;
The other gave you a name.
One gave you the seed of talent;
The other gave you an aim.
One gave you emotions;
The other calmed your fears.
One saw your first sweet smile;
The other dried your tears.
One gave you up –
It was all she could do.
The other prayed for a child;
And God led her straight to you.
And now you ask me through your tears,
The age-old question of the years:
Hereditary or environment –
Which are you the product of?
Neither, my darling – neither
Just two kinds of love.
...several tears later I watched Mark Schultz's (one of my favorite Christian artists who is also adopted) "Everything to Me." If you haven't heard of it I highly encourage you to watch his music video. His music expresses exactly how I feel about being adopted.
Now, you might be wondering, "Well you said you don't like to advertise your adoption birthday yet you're posting all these things in your blog about it..." You're right. Why? I want to express my gratitude for the gift of life itself. It's days like today that remind me 22.5 years ago one woman made a decision between giving me life and erasing me from this world entirely. By the grace and mercy of God, she chose life and has given everything to me. Yea, I've got a couple of stressful days ahead of me, but if it weren't for that single decision I wouldn't be alive. I wouldn't have gotten the chance to be an Evans Scholar, to attend a 4-year prestigious university, to teach underserved children in a third world country for 5 months, to be accepted into a rigorous but promising physician assistant program. And that's only in recent years! Late night flashlight tag in the summer, first loves, lifelong friends, the list goes on...
I know a majority of you aren't adopted and might have trouble fully relating to what I'm saying. Let's try a different approach: have you ever had a near-death experience? If you have, I'm sure you've tried to repress the horrific memory but I challenge you dig and grasp it for a second. However long ago it happened, try to recapture that feeling of relief of your life being spared and living to see another day. That gratitude is often lost in the daily grind of our busy lives. If you are fortunate to never have brushed skin with death, think of a loved one that has passed on. How would they see life if they got to live another day? When I get into a funk I try to remember a girl that I knew in middle school who died in a car crash when she was seventeen. If I'm freaking out over a test (which I often am) I try to catch myself and think "Well, regardless of how I do at least I am alive and have the opportunity to get a degree...Paige* never even got to graduate high school."
I guess what I'm trying to say without being too cliche is remember to live because we truly don't know when our "expiration date" is. I don't mean to sound morbid, just realistic. I tend to live in the clouds of idealism but I'm working on incorporating a little more realism into my life. So, I encourage you to do the same. I'm not suggesting you live in fear and create a living will tomorrow, but why not start a bucket list? It gives you a tangible list of activities that will keep you accountable in "remembering to live." Here's a few of mine to give you an idea:
1. Visit every continent at least once
2. Go Skydiving
3. Hot air balloon across the Sierra Desert
Once you have that started I have a final challenge for you: keep a pen and a piece of paper by your bedside and when you wake up write down one reason why you're grateful you're alive. Continue to do that every morning and you'll be surprised how quickly menial stresses disappear and life comes back into focus.
So, what's on your list?
Blessings,
Janelle
*denotes name change
